Saturday, June 27, 2009

...So when I arrived home from Ethiopia I immediately put envelopes together for B and Bereket. Amelle wrote a letter to Bereket and I printed pictures for both of them. It was good to feel like I would be able to keep in touch.

Of course, there was more going on behind the scenes. I was planning to make my move on Dirt about adopting B. I planted seeds and hinted around for a few days, telling him how I had lost my appetite to adopt a younger child. Oddly, I was nervous about approaching him about it. I don’t know why that is, maybe I was afraid he’d say no and I’d have to just sort of deal with that.

He didn’t say no. But he didn’t say yes either. He said, “I’m not at peace with it”.

I walked around in a funk for three weeks, completely heartbroken over this boy. I prayed and asked God to open this door, to drop the burden on Dirt, to make a way for this to happen, but He seemed to remain silent, simply listening to my pleas.

One night I asked Dirt if I could just find out if he’s even adoptable. I mean, all this heartache, and I may find out that he isn’t even adoptable. That would certainly close the door. (Tom had told me that the boys at Kolfe were not adoptable, but many of the boys at Kolfe had told us that their friends had been adopted). Dirt agreed to me finding out, but cautioned that if B was adoptable, he still wasn’t ready.

I "tweeted" that Dirt said I could look into it and someone responded back on my FB, saying I should check out Gladney (Adoption Agency). She didn’t know who the boy was or which orphanage he was at, but I thought, okay, Gladney is a start. There are probably over 100 different agencies to choose from, Gladney seemed as good of a starting point as any.

That night I checked out Gladney’s website and I immediately recognized the backdrop in their Ethiopia video. It was Kolfe. I had reached into the haystack and pulled out the needle!

That night I went to bed smiling. The following morning I e-mailed a representative at Gladney and waiting patiently by my gmail account for a reply. By noon I had received bittersweet news. They found him, sent me a picture and short bio. He was a “waiting child” – completely adoptable. But he is 12 and has an older sister who is 16. They can not be separated.

My heart sank. I couldn’t get Dirt to say yes to one, how could I even approach him about two kids? Did I even want two kids myself? I had never considered adopting a teenage daughter. Neh-ver. Five kids? That’s just crazy talk. I dropped it. Sort of. A few days later I dug up the e-mail and re-read their short bios.

His bio said that he liked to play with Legos and swim. Just like Avery. Her bio said that she liked to do hair and wanted to be adopted so that she could have a mother and father’s love.

Wait a second, back up. She likes to do hair? Um. This could be a perfect match! In fact, this could be a match made in heaven! She likes to do hair! Our family has an opening for someone who likes to do hair!

My heart began to soften to the possibility of adopting two kids. I began to look at these kids in the context of our family. Yes, it was totally crazy, but I serve a God of the crazy. A talking burning bush is crazy, raising people from the dead is crazy, turning water into wine is crazy, us adopting two teenagers is crazy – but with God, all things are possible (Matthew 19:26).

Dirt went to talk to our pastor and was assured that he needed to be at peace with this decision before moving forward. I get that. I also understand that Dirt needs to be back at work before we can move forward.

Friday, June 26, 2009

I know this doesn't need to be said, but I'm not sad about Michael Jackson's death. If I'm completely honest, I might admit that I would have had fonder memories of him had it happened sooner, like post-Thriller. That poor man was obviously plagued with an unfathomable mental illness.

And while I'm at it, I don't really care about Farrah Fawcett's death either. I suppose, as a Christian, I should mourn for their souls if they weren't saved, but I have no idea what kind of relationship they had with Jesus in their final moments, so there is no sense in even meditating on it.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Last time we discussed this topic, I told you that I thought I would gain clarity about adoption on my trip to Ethiopia and I promised an update when I returned. Since then many people have asked me what we're going to do about adopting, and my response falls somewhere in between an apologetic smile and an awkward sand kick - kinda like what it's like for people who are unsuccessfully trying to conceive, to answer "are you pregnant yet?".

So the long and short of it is I am not pregnant. Not really. Unless of course it were possible for me to get pregnant without Dirt's help. So if I am pregnant, Wendy is the father.

Just to recap, last fall we began the process of adopting. At that point, we agreed on a 4 year old boy from Ethiopia. But everything about the process was wrong, and finally Dirt put the brakes on due to economic concerns.

While I was in Africa I met a boy that absolutely stole my heart. I literally don't know how I'm even here typing this because I have no heart, B is probably off somewhere in Ethiopia playing soccer with it. And, he wasn't four - our magical adoption age. In fact I met lots and lots of four year old boys and never once thought about any of them as my son. Never not once.

I need to be clear here, I didn't go to Ethiopia to pick out a child. That was never my intention, and in fact, that's not how the adoption process generally works (the agency matches you with a child - you don't get to pick).

However, when you meet an orphan that you instantly connect with, youe heart can make it's own plans.

I probably would've been fine if stinkin' Wendy didn't whisper in my ear, "you have to adopt him". (This is how she impregnated me.) Then I began looking at him with mother eyes. Lets face it, I met close to 900 orphans, I was immune to feeling like I needed to adopt every beautiful face I met. In fact, I didn't think of it at all, until I met B. I met him the day before we left Ethiopia at an orphanage that I didn't want to go to. I almost made it out of Africa free and clear.

He said he was nine, but I was skeptical. I thought maybe 10-11. In Ethiopia, birthdays aren't "a thing" - no one really knows how old these kids are. However, I did know one thing, an 11 is too old for our family because it would mess with the birth order. Avery needed to remain the oldest; that was my rule.

BUT, then there was the shyly offered kiss on the cheek that made rules about who I can and can't love seem silly. We were taking a photo together and as the camera snapped, he quickly turned and plopped a kiss right on my cheek. A bold move by him, but I was done. In my head I began thinking things like, "B Moore - yeah that goes".

When I returned home I didn't broach the topic of adoption with Dirt right away, I figured that I needed to wait for my emotions to settled down so I could think logically about this. I did share my special connection with a boy I plan to sponsor (Bereket) and my beloved "B" with Dirt and the kids, as special children that I connected with who I hoped to remain in touch with. Their pictures went up on the fridge and they're names were mentioned at prayer times.

..this post is getting too long...story to be continued...

Bereket, our sponsor son. Isn't he the sweetest thing EVER?

[PHOTO REMOVED]

"B"(yellow shirt) with his Auntie Wendy, playing with the ifart application. She didn't waste any time indoctrinating him with poop humor.

Thursday, June 04, 2009

One of my (blog) friends, Brandi, just returned back from Uganda, where Children's Hopechest is launching a sponsorship program. Unfortunately, what Brandi found in Uganda can't wait for children to get sponsored, the situation is dire and the need is immediate. Like now.

The bad news is that Ugandan schools cannot give pencils out to students because the children are so hungry, they eat them. The good news is that $0.14 can feed someone a meal of posho (cornmeal) and beans.

Take that in for a moment. . .$0.14 a meal$2.86 for 20 days$1 per FAMILY$20 feed a family for 20 days.

Join me in skipping lunch today and then give the money you would have spent on your lunch here (note: FEED THE FORGOTTEN). Then comment back here and tell us how many people you fed today. It'll be fun. If you don't want to skip your lunch, skip your morning iced coffee - or the one you drink at 3pm. Or don't skip anything, just give a little. The possibilities are limitless!

I'm going light on this topic because I've put you all through enough lately, but if you want the real skinny read this or this. Or, suffice it to say that you can save someone from eating dung and insects today. There I said it. I tricked you, I didn't go light on you afterall. Yeah, poop and insects. That's the kind of starvation we're talking about. Sip on that on your way to work this morning.

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

I often wonder about the influence of growing up with super-close cousins.

There is so much talk about the impact of birth order on personality. Our kids have their natural birth order, but then they fall into another birth order with their cousins. For example, in the above photo, do you think they were purposely walking in order of birth? Nah... it just falls that way sometimes. When we go places together, it doesn't take long to notice that Avery and Joelle like to be in the front (both oldest siblings leading the way for their respective tribes), while Will and Maya don't seem to care about lagging behind.

Cousins are like extended siblings.

They love like siblings and they get on each others nerves like siblings.